


Doombots, First Times, and Roof Tops

by hawkquy (OkayButVoltron)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: First Time Together, Get together fic, Iron Man Bingo 2019, IronHawk - Freeform, Just Roll With It, M/M, Oneshot, Vague timeline and vague universe, gratuitous use of spit and courage, post battle sex, run on sentences like you wouldnt believe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 09:51:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17979101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OkayButVoltron/pseuds/hawkquy
Summary: Posted for Iron Man Bingo 2019, square: Post Battle Sex. When Clint stops answering during a mission, Tony and the team fear the worst. With Tony freaking out and emotions running high, the reunion is something to be remembered.





	Doombots, First Times, and Roof Tops

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first post for the Iron Man Bingo 2019! It’s my first fic in....years and I’m incapable of writing less than 5k words for a fic, so take this forray back into writing with a grain of salt. Enjoy one of my favourite guilty pleasure ships!

“Alright, team,” Cap’s voice came over the radio, “looks like we’re pretty much done on street level. How are we doing up high?” 

 

“Things are looking pretty sparse over in my quadrant, el capitan,“ Tony chirps in reply as he blasts another Doombot out of the sky. The attack hadn’t been anything too special, standard formations, standard tech, and a standard target of a government run research facility. Tony almost rolled his eyes as he banked around a building to head back towards the main group of Avengers on the ground. “How’s the rest of the Brady Bunch holding up out there? Are you all as bored as me?” 

 

Some grunts and various noises to the affirmative came over the radio and another standard admonishment from Steve about being able to learn from even the most simple of fights. All in all, no surprises at all today. Until, of course, Tony realized that his banter throughout the last 30 minutes of the fight had felt strangely more like a monologue than normal.

 

“Bird brain, how you holding up out there? Run out of pointy sticks yet?” Tony asked, the grin on his face obvious through his tone. His face started to fall though when he heard no sarcastic reply. “Hey, Hawkguy, you busy with some kind of weird avian mating ritual? Because even that isn’t a good enough excuse to ignore me.”

 

When another opportunity to quip back at Tony passed Clint by, the whole team knew something was up. Clint was an obstinate brat and always stands ready to fire comebacks on the radio. “Where was Hawkeye last seen?” Cap’s voice cut through the radio and through Tony’s racing thoughts.

 

Tony could feel how wild his eyes were behind his suit’s mask of indifference. It had taken so long for him and Clint to finally break through their walls of barbed comments to gradually reach a stage of good natured comedic one-uppance. And now, well, now they had fallen into the comfort of that type of easy friendship that comes with being in a tight knit group like the Avengers. Deep down, Tony knew they had grown closer than that, but neither of them were the type to truly hope for something real. Each more likely to turn to easy one night tumbles, or laugh at any feelings more serious than casual friendship. But even Tony had to admit he felt something stir when he spent time with Clint. And that same feeling was stirring now, twisting and churning his gut more than he ever thought would be possible.

 

Tony’s breath was coming hot and fast, almost misting against his face shield as he pushed the armour as fast as he could. His eyes were wide, taking in everything the scanners were showing him as he swooped passed building after building, searching desperately for a sign, any little thing that may point him in the direction of his lost teammate. As his eyes scoured, his brain raced too, thinking of the times he had spent with Clint and realizing what absolute idiots they had been. They worked in the workshop together occasionally, Tony tinkering away on his armour or whatever looked most interesting in the piles of SI assignments, and Clint would sit over in the corner, experimenting with his arrows. The more ridiculous the better, Clint seemed to think, and despite his panic and fear Tony couldn’t keep the small smile off his face when he thought of the number of times he had been roped into testing stupid cartoon style shit like net arrows, slime arrows, oil slick arrows... literally anything Clint could think of. He would perch himself in the workshop near Tony and work away, inadvertently blowing up equipment more often than not.

 

Thinking back, Tony wasn’t sure when it was exactly that he and Clint had begun spending so much time together. He knew they had their problems and their disagreements, but right now, in his panicked state, all he could remember was the late night movies, shitty action films muted by JARVIS when they started talking. It would always start off about easy topics, like the Avengers, their equipment, changes and improvements they wanted to make. But as they talked more and longer, they went deeper. Learning about each others pasts and their shitty childhoods. Tony and Clint may have had very different upbringings but they were also so similar in so many ways. Shitty fathers, shittier role models, being used to their breaking points, finally realizing the right thing to do and fighting back, to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, and to correct the oft times innumerable wrongs they had committed. They may be different, yes, but their paths had led them here, to this team. And to this moment where Tony finally realized what an absolute idiot he had been. He and Clint, they had been growing so close but their combined idiocy and ignorance at kept them at arms length, not that either of them would ever admit it. But right here right now, as Tony frantically searched roof top after roof top for Clint, he finally realized what the blonde idiot might truly mean to him.

 

Finally Natasha’s voice broke through over the tense silence on the comms as the team wildly searched their sectors for any sign of the forboddingly silent archer. “I’ve got a lot of arrows down on 82nd street, Iron Man, check the buildings over here.”

 

Tony could feel the Gs pulling at him as he banked, pushing the suit to its limits as he raced between the buildings towards his best chance at finding Clint, __‘hopefully still alive,’__  his unhelpful mind supplied. He tried to shake his head to get rid of the thought, but it was no use. He had thought it and it was here to stay. What would he do if Clint didn’t make it? Fuck, Clint would haunt all their asses if he died in a lame, run of the mill Doombot fight, was all Tony’s brain could think of in response.

 

But at that moment JARVIS helpfully zoomed in on the roof top of one of the buildings where he had caught a flurry movement and a strong heat signature. Tony felt his stomach in his throat as the suit plummeted a few terrifying inches as he lost focus when his eyes finally fell on Clint.

 

For some reason _ _‘Holy shit he looks good like that,’__ was all Tony could think when he finally righted his suit. Well, first he thought _ _‘thank god he’s okay. I would have had to kick his ass if he was hurt,’__  but that thought was quickly followed by being completely unable to tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding a few hundred meters away. Clint was fighting a final pack of Doombots and it might have been the hottest shit Tony had ever seen.

 

It was easy some times, with the distraction of super powers, metal armour, and superhuman strength, to forget that Clint was just as capable as any of them. He had trained for years for this. The circus had taught him his aim, sure, but it also taught him flexibility, balance, grace, and power. And he had all of that at his disposal every time he fought. And Tony knew he wouldn’t be able to forget that fact any time soon because this memory would be playing on a loop in his mind from now until the end of time.

 

Clint ducked and dodged as the horde of Doombots attacked from all directions, having him completely surrounded. His quiver was empty but that didn’t stop him as he slid between the legs of one Doombot to get out of the circle and took out its legs with the hardened edges of his bow. Clint leapt to his feet and turned around, now able to face the horde as a single group, rather than be trapped between them all. Clint picked up a discarded broken arrow and used the still sharp tip of it to drive it straight through the face of a Doombot. He kicked the bot square in the chest, forcing it off his arrow and hurtling backwards, flopping uselessly into another two bots taking them out of commission. Clint weaved between the bots, kicking, punching, and stabbing, flowing in a way that looked like art to Tony as he continued to streak towards Clint, finally closing in on him.

 

He could hear the clang of metal, the sharp crackling of the electricity attempting to move damaged and destroyed Doombots, and the grunts of exertion from Clint as he managed to take out bot after bot using only his fists, his feet, and one metal arm he had ripped off a helpless bot. Despite every advantage being with the mechanical droids, Clint quickly gained the upper hand, taking them down one by one, his skill in combat obvious as he seemed to predict every single move the bots even thought about taking. Before one of them could turn around Clint would be there, artfully and precisely dismantling them.

 

Finally Tony drew near enough to land on the roof and call out “Clint!” who ducked immediately, without hesitation or explanation. Tony powered up the lasers on his forearms, sweeping his arms in a wide arc and taking out each and every remaining Doombot, not that there were many left after Clint had had his way with them.

 

“Shit, Stark, I should be a damsel in distress more often if it means you’ll come do everything for me,” Clint laughed from his position on his back on the cement floor of the roof. His chest was heaving from exertion despite his jovial demeanour, and his bare arm was glistening with sweat, a slight tremble in it from the strain on his muscles.

 

Tony turned to Clint as his face shield and helmet retracted back into the suit. “Woah man, you okay?” Clint asked as Tony walked quickly towards him, his eyes still wild and panicked, “What’s going on, Tony?” Clint started to look worried and Tony leaned over, grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him up, walking him backwards until he could press Clint against the door to the roof access stairs.

 

“Team, I’ve got Clint. He’s alive,” Tony barked towards his comm unit. Vaguely he could hear the faint relief from the rest of the team and Cap’s orders to begin the clean up process now that the fight was truly over. Tony raked his eyes over Clint, holding him firmly by his shoulders, reassuring himself that his idiot teammate and friend was uninjured.

 

“Alive?” Clint asked with a short laugh. “Of course I’m alive Tinman. Were you guys worried about me?” He teased. “Seriously, can you imagine? Doombots taking __me__  out? If we get to the point where I can’t handle a squad of tamagotchis with legs while I’ve got no weapons and one arm tied behind my back, maybe you __should__ let them take me. My life would basically be over at that point anyway.”

 

Tony’s heart finally seemed to stop beating out of his chest as he let the strangely soothing sound of Clint’s usual banter wash over him. Tony rolled his eyes at Clint’s bluster and his eyes fell on Clint’s ear, sans Comm Unit. “Really Clint? No ear piece?” Tony asked, eyebrow cocked. “You take down one measly squad of subpar robots without me holding your hand and suddenly you’re too good to listen to my jokes while I kick ass?”

 

Clint just shrugged with a smirk on his face, the movement of his shoulders jostling Tony’s armoured hands, but Tony couldn’t seem to let go yet. He just slid one hand further up Clint’s shoulder, letting his hand come to rest at the base of his neck where the sensitive pressure sensors of his gauntlet reassured him that Clint’s heart was beating steady and strong. “What can I say, Metallica, I was busy,” Clint stated with his own eyebrow cocked and a meaningful look at the piles of Doombots littered around them.

 

“Yeah, you’re welcome for the help, by the way,” Tony joked, turning to look at the mechanical graveyard.

 

“Hey now,” Clint objected, drawing Tony’s gaze back to his eyes again, “I was kicking some serious tin can there. If you gave me 2 more minutes they would have been a pile of scrap.” Clint’s eyes were crinkled in mirth, but Tony could see his pupils were blown, his adrenaline still sky high after his close call, despite all the cocky jokes. Sweat was still forming at his temples, his breath still coming out ragged, chest heaving beneath the form fitting uniform that drew Tony’s eyes. He looked down Clint’s toned torso and back up to take in his strong arms that still glistened and trembled slightly from effort. Tony’s thoughts were immediately brought back to the scene he had flown in on, significantly less terrifying now that he knew Clint was alive and well. Those same arms swinging powerfully through the air, bruised fists clenching pieces of scrap metal that Clint plunged into weak points he spied on the bots. His strong thighs and legs swinging out, carrying him up and over bots and swooping down under others to take them out slowly but surely, one by one. And that ass— Tony felt himself unconsciously licking his lips and felt his heart rate start to pick back up as he realized how obviously he was ogling his teammate. His eyes snapped back up to Clint’s whose were no longer crinkled and laughing but strangely piercing for the archer, staring right back at Tony.

 

Clint leaned his head back against the hard metal door Tony still had him gently pressed against and stared hard at Tony through his eyelashes. “Although,” Clint started, his voice low and his own hands coming up to grasp at the hip joints of Tony’s armour, the pressure of them translating through the suit so lightly Tony found himself wanting to groan and push himself flush against Clint so he could really __feel__  him, “it was pretty hot when you came in, lasers blazing to save me, all authoritative and badass, yelling my name...” This time it was Clint who couldn’t seem to help his tongue as it darted out to wet his quickly drying lips.

 

Tony gripped Clint’s shoulder and neck more firmly and leaned in closer, his gaze darting between Clint’s eyes and his lips, silently asking permission even though they both knew where this was going. They both knew how long they had been stepping in this direction, trying to tease and push each other into making a move, but there’s nothing like a near death experience and the adrenaline of a fight to finally get someone to take that final step. “I screamed your name,” Tony said huskily as Clint’s arms reached further around the armour, pressing them closer together, one of Tony’s own hands falling to Clint’s waist, “now how about I get you to scream mine?”

 

Tony vaguely heard Clint’s muttered ‘fucking finally’ as he grinned and pressed his lips against Clint’s, their breath melding, lips pressing, tongues meeting, and teeth clashing. It was a sloppy first kiss, no attempt being made to be chaste or coy. That idea was thrown out the window the minute the two of them had made breathless eye contact after yet another near death experience. They pushed and pulled at each other, hands searching, leaving Tony groaning, frustrated at the lack of sensation through the suit. Clint pushed his own crotch against Tony, his hard cock pressed almost painfully against the unyielding metal of Tony’s encased thigh. Tony’s mouth worked against Clint’s in a way that felt illegal, their breath hot and heavy, groans and whispered curses hanging in the air around them. Finally they pulled away, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together. Tony’s hand was still grasping hard at Clint’s neck, keeping him close, his other arm wrapped around Clint’s tapered waist pulling him in and supporting him as Clint’s hips rocked into Tony’s thigh.

 

Tony felt himself grow harder at the sight of Clint’s open, glistening mouth, his slightly closed eyes and flushed cheeks, with his hips rutting against Tony’s armour. This was an image Tony would never forget if his dick had any say in the matter. He felt himself shift back against Clint, hissing at the pinching of the armour as it held hard and firm, painful against his growing cock.

 

“Tony?”

 

“Yeah?” He replied, still feeling breathless.

 

“Get out of that.”

 

“Yeah.” Tony nodded, still looking into Clint’s eyes and took and step back, already mourning the contact even if he could barely feel it. “JARVIS,” he stated, his arms spreading out to his sides.

 

“Yes sir,” the electronic voice replied from his earpiece, and Tony felt the armour start to disassemble around him and condense into the compact form Tony had been designing. Tony left the suit on the ground and took the earpiece out of his ear and tossed it down beside the suit.

 

Tony looked back up at Clint who was still leaning against the door, his legs wide and hand palming at his dick through his tight uniform. “Fuck,” he groaned, “that should _not_ be as hot as it is.”

 

“I don’t think that’s something you should complain about Bird Brain. Half the design process is how to make it as sexy as possible, you know. Although, it’s easy considering it’s me I guess. If it were you, I may have a harder time trying to make it look good.”

 

Clint rolled his eyes at the banter and stood up straighter. “Get your ass back over here, Stark,” he practically growled out and grabbed Tony by the neck of his flight suit and spun them around to press Tony firmly against the brick wall. Tony’s fingers scrabbled uselessly at the brick surface, fighting for purchase, sensitive to the rough touch after being encased in the impenetrable metal gauntlets for so long. Tony stared up at Clint, taller than him now that he was out of the suit and gave up grabbing at the wall, instead reaching up and grabbing Clint’s neck and hair, dragging him down for another kiss.

 

Their tongues fought and danced, making an absolute mess and not caring. Groaning into each others mouths they grabbed and pulled close, pressing obviously hard cocks together, thrusting frantically against crotches and thighs, each touch and press of their bodies feeling like so much and yet not nearly enough at the same time. Tony’s fingers pulled at Clint’s hair and Clint’s mouth moved from Tony’s, leaving a trail of wet kisses and nips to Tony’s jaw and neck, Tony gasping out at the touch. Tony’s hips pressed harder against Clint’s as his mouth worked against Tony’s sensitive skin.

 

Soon, Tony could feel his hips stuttering, desperate for any contact against Clint’s, and pushed Clint back half a step. Clint’s mouth left Tony’s collar bone where his hand had started to pull and stretch the flight suit out of shape in an attempt to reach as much skin as possible. “I need you out of that ridiculous suit right now, Clint.”

 

Clint started pulling off his quiver and arm brace without a second thought, and Tony reached for the zipper of the suit to help, pealing the sweat soaked suit from Clint’s frankly chiseled body. “Ridiculous?” Clint asked, faking a scandalized tone, “I think this makes me look hot. Tight in all the right places and all that.”

 

“It may be tight in the right places,” Tony stated, leering meaningfully as Clint pushed the skin tight fabric over the swell of his ass and large thighs, “but I’m still not convinced purple and one sleeve is the right look for you,” Tony managed to tease without stuttering as Clint’s dick was freed from the suit. Tony wasn’t surprised that Clint was commando, hell, so was he. There’s not much room under skin tight super suits for briefs and you wouldn’t believe the underwear lines. But knowing he was going to be seeing Clint’s dick and actually coming face to face with it was a different matter entirely.

 

“This doing something for you, now, Tony?” Clint joked as he kicked aside his boots and suit leaving him completely naked on the roof, looking right at Tony, not trying to cover himself at all.

 

“Well, it’s definitely not doing nothing,” Tony stated as his hips twitched inside his flight suit, trying to get any kind of friction they could against his dick. His hands came up to his throat , grabbing for the zipper of his suit and starting to pull it open when Clint reached out and pushed Tony’s hands away, grasping the zipper himself and pulling it down, painfully slowly, tooth by tooth. Clint leaned in and followed the path of skin left open by the zipper with his mouth, making his journey slowly but surely further down Tony’s chest and abdomen, leaving Tony twitching and moaning, his own hands grabbing in Clint’s short hair. Finally Clint reached the bottom of the zipper, his mouth coming to a stop teasingly just at the point where Tony’s treasure trail met coarse pubic hair, his fingers grazing playfully over where Tony’s cock strained against the fabric, his cheek resting against Tony’s abs as he caught his breath for a moment. Tony gripped Clint’s hair harder and managed to lift his head from its thrown back position to look down at Clint and pull him back up to his full height.

 

Clint dragged his hands up Tony’s abs and chest as he stood back up, pushing the flight suit up and over Tony’s own broad shoulders and letting it fall down off his arms to hang precariously on his hips. Tony pulled Clint’s mouth back to his own, barely kissing but licking messily into each others mouths, sloppy and wet and perfect as their hands roamed against bare chests, catching on muscles and nipples, pulling and scratching at each other, drawing gasps and groans that were swallowed happily by the other.

 

Before Tony’s searching hands could finish their journey to Clint’s cock, Clint stepped back and groaned heavily again. “Fuck Tony, look at you.” Tony’s chest was wet and red, marked up by Clint’s journey south, but Clint was caught up by Tony’s strong chest and abs, chiselled from his work in the lab and piloting the heavy suit. “It’s got to be a human rights violation that you hide this under armour and Hugo Boss suits.”

 

Tony just grinned, “Oh honey please, I only wear Dolci and Gabbana,” and pushed the flight suit off his hips, trying to gracefully get his legs out of the tight fabric when he saw Clint’s knees hit the ground and he went to pull the suit down for him. Tony pulled his feet out and planted them wide on the ground, leaning back against the wall again to keep him standing upright as Clint threw the suit aside. Tony let out a sodt moan as he moved his hand to his finally free dick. He stared down at Clint, slowly pulling at his cock, bottom lip between his teeth in a look that he knew gave off a ‘please fuck me now’ vibe. Clint swallowed visibly and let his hands firmly run up Tony’s legs before replacing Tony’s hand with his own, jerking him off in a rhythm that was both too slow and too fast, making Tony’s mouth fall open in a wordless moan as he couldn’t help but stare at the man on his knees in front of him.

 

Tony’s head soon flew backwards, lucky to avoid hitting it painfully off the wall as Clint’s tongue darted out and licked at the head of Tony’s cock. Clint quickly gained confidence, sinking his mouth over the head, sucking and bobbing as his hands continued to work Tony until his legs trembled. Tony could feel his mouth making wrecked noises but he had no control over it. He panted and moaned, groaning out “ _ _Fuck__ , Clint,” like it was a prayer and he was a devoted disciple. Tony’s hands reached down to grasp tightly at Clint’s hair, making him moan through his stretched mouth. Tony looked at Clint, his shiny pink lips taut over his cock, his eyes staring straight up at Tony, locking his gaze in place. Unable to look away, Tony’s clenched hand started guiding Clint on and off his cock, gently thrusting into his face. Clint moaned again, his eyes fluttering shut as he changed his angle and let his jaw open further, letting Tony fuck his face. Tony watched, lip pulled painfully between his teeth as Clint’s hand reach down to jerk his own cock.

 

Both of their moans were coming faster now, the sounds of slurping and the occasional gag from Clint sitting heavy in the hot air around them. “F-fuck, Jesus Christ, Clint,” and Tony had to use his tight grip on Clint’s hair to pull him back off his cock. He stared down at Clint, head extended backwards, eyes still closed, his open mouth and chin covered with spit. Listening to Clint's wrecked breath coming out fast had Tony trembling and desperate to finish right there, to fuck Clint’s face some more and come all over him. But that was for another time. “I need you to fuck me. Right now.” Tony stated bluntly, punctuated with a sharp tug upwards on Clint’s hair, needing him to stand up and slam Tony against the wall as hard and fast as he could.

 

Clint opened his eyes at that and grinned, not caring about the state of his face and surged up to his feet, taking Tony’s face in his hands. He pressed Tony firmly to the wall from chest to thigh, cocks rubbing together, the friction just on the wrong side of not enough, and took Tony’s mouth in his own. His aching jaw worked Tony’s, their tongues meeting messily in the middle, clashing together and sharing the taste of Tony’s own cock, the spit on Clint’s chin getting all over both of them, and neither of them caring. “Sir yes sir,” Clint mumbled into Tony’s mouth as his hips canted against Tony’s. “You have anything?”

 

Tony just pushed Clint away, dropped to his knees in answer, opening his mouth over Clint’s cock, sloppy and wet with the filthiest noises Clint has ever heard, getting Clint’s cock wet from base to tip. Switching to Clint’s hand, Tony took turns getting Clint’s fingers and cock good and wet, making Clint’s legs weak in the process. Eventually, his job done, Tony got back to his feet and looked right at Clint’s wrecked face. “All I’ve got today is spit and courage, my friend,” he joked with a grin, leaning back against the wall, feet spread wide in an obvious invitation.

 

“Well, shit. If that’s not the hottest thing I’ve ever heard,” Clint said grinning back at Tony and surging in for another kiss. Clint reached his wet hand around Tony and toyed with the rim of his ass for a minute before slipping his finger inside, making Tony moan into his mouth. Clint worked him quickly and Tony opened readily for him. By the time he slid his third finger in, Tony’s head was thrown back against the brick, his mouth wide and moaning, and his leg hiked up around Clint’s waist for better access. Tony was thrusting mindlessly back onto Clint’s fingers and forward to rub his cock against Clint’s, desperate for any kind of friction. Clint’s mouth worked on all the skin it could reach, biting at his ear, sucking at his jaw, and claiming his neck in a move that would surely leave the type of mark that Tony hadn’t found hot since the age of 20 but boy, was it ever working for him today.

 

Finally Clint pulled his fingers free and gave his cock a few quick strokes, making sure there was still some semblance of lubrication there, spreading the spit and his precome around a bit. “Fuck, Clint,” Tony spoke up breathlessly, “you’re fine, I’m ready, and I need you in me five goddamn minutes ago,” Tony used the leg thrown around Clint to pull him closer and press his aching cock more firmly into Clint’s abdomen as punctuation.

 

Clint couldn’t help but groan at Tony’s throaty demands and captured his mouth in another searing kiss. He wrapped his bow hardened arms under Tony’s legs and hefted him off the ground, pressing him hard against the wall for more leverage. Tony yelped in surprise into Clint’s mouth and quickly secured his legs around Clint’s waist, using his arms to cling desperately at Clint’s broad shoulders as his mouth moved messily against Clint’s. Clint used a free hand to reach under them and position his rock hard cock at Tony’s entrance, who squirmed at the light touch of its head against his twitching hole. Tony moaned into Clint’s mouth and pressed his ass downwards, begging Clint to fuck into him. Clint obeyed the obvious command and guided himself into Tony. Tony’s moan turned seamlessly into a satisfied groan and his head fell back again at the feeling of Clint pushing steadily inside, filling him. Clint slid as far in as the awkward angle would allow and he let out a satisfied sigh, his head falling to rest his forehead on Tony’s shoulder.

 

The two of them breathed deeply together for a moment, panting into the near silence of the roof top, the only other sound was the faint wailing of sirens below in the post battle chaos. Clint paused to catch his breath but Tony soon began twitching against him, trying to use his wrapped legs to gain any sort of leverage he could to try and move up and down on Clint’s cock, to get any sort of friction against his own painfully hard dick. His twitching and desperate moans worked quick on Clint who couldn’t hold back any longer. He pulled out of Tony and thrust hard back in, the drag of his cock against Tony’s tight ass almost a form of torture it felt so good. Tony’s erratic movements stilled for mere seconds as he got used to the feeling of Clint’s drags, in and out of his body, filling him up again and again and again. Soon Tony and Clint were a moaning mess, Tony using his grip on Clint’s shoulders and his legs to bounce up and down on Clint’s cock, not even noticing his back scraping against the brick with every desperate movement. Clint’s strong arms, still tired from the fight, were shaking from the effort of holding Tony up, but he wasn't willing to stop for even a second, not able to give up the tight heat of Tony. He knew immediately he would chase after that feeling time and time again. Their kissing turned into an open mouthed press as they shared air, their moans regressing to nothing more than ragged pants. They thrust and pushed and pulled together, the adrenaline from the fight and the fuck clouding their vision and their thoughts, the only thing running through their minds being the hard thrusts, the heat, the delicious drag, and the shouts of pleasure as they rode together.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Tony panted out with each thrust, Clint’s cock driving against him and into him, the friction and the pressure on his prostate driving his legs to shake and his own thrusting to turn shaky and uncoordinated. One arm wrapped around Clint’s shoulder and fisted tightly in his hair, Tony took his other hand and pushed it between their bodies, grabbing at his own cock. The barest friction he was getting from Clint’s abdomen was just not enough and he pulled hard and fast on it, his breathing harsh and ragged, gasping as Clint’s teeth grazed his sensitive neck again. “Fuck, Clint, I— jesus, I’m—”

 

“Fuck, Tony, me too...fuck! Come on!” Clint moaned into Tony’s shoulder as the two lost their rhythm, thrusting shakily into each other.

 

Tony felt his orgasm build and come crashing over him, his eyes wide open, but not seeing anything as his cock twitched almost painfully and he came all over his hand and their abs with a broken shout of “F-fuck Clint, oh my go-hod, jesus!” His voice gasping, his hand still moving erratically, stroking himself through his orgasm, moaning, hungry for air.

 

As Tony came and shouted, Clint’s hips twitched and slammed into Tony harder, his ass twitching and clenching through his orgasm, milking Clint’s cock so perfectly, so deliciously that he buried himself as deep as he could, lifting Tony up even further, finally able to thrust into him right to the hilt for his orgasm to wash over him. Tony, still weakly trying to bounce on Clint’s cock, his insides and legs shaking, working Clint through his own orgasm, moans cracking with every movement Tony made.

 

They soon stilled, breath finally calming, vision clearing, and heart rates slowing somewhere closer to normal. “Holy crap, Tony, that was... fuck,” was all Clint could choke out with a breathy laugh.

 

“Let’s face it, Clint,” Tony returned with a laugh of his own as they untangled themselves and Tony grasped onto his shoulders as he regained his balance on shaky legs, “we always knew we’d be a good fuck, but we needed a good fight to start us off.”

 

Clint rested his face against the crook of Tony’s neck where a red mark was forming and laughed softly against him. “I do love a good fight and a fuck. The way to my heart. And that was a good fight.”

 

“A good fight for you, maybe,” Tony replied, his hand coming up to stroke through Clint’s hair, “hanging out up here kicking some robot butt while the rest of us are searching everywhere for you. Cap’s going to drill you for taking off your comm set.”

 

“You’re one to talk,” Clint joked as he stepped back and bent over to grab his uniform, tossing Tony his own discarded Comms set in the process, “you’ll be next on Cap’s shit list.”

 

Tony watched appreciatively as Clint pulled the tight uniform back on with a little hop and jiggle to adjust his dick inside the tight pants. Clint didn’t make a move to clean himself off or wipe Tony’s come from his abs. A move that should honestly disgust Tony, but only made him lick his lips and bite back what was sure to be a desperate noise.

 

Tony bent over to grab his own uniform and started pulling it up one handed as he put the Comms Unit back in his ear. “-ony? Tony! I swear if you guys don’t start answering me— This isn’t going to get you out of clean up.”

 

Clint’s own earpiece was back in place now and he reached over to help zip Tony up. “Uh oh, sounds like grandpa is going to be mad at both of us now,” Clint joked.

 

“Doesn’t he get that I have something better to be doing right now? He better not be the next one coming up here to save your ass because I don’t think I’m ready to have the sex talk with him yet. Maybe in a few more years.”

 

“I dunno,“ Clint said swiping his hand across his face to rid himself of the spit and who knows what else they had left behind, “I don’t think I’d say no to a little Cap action,” he joked. Tony just rolled his eyes and didn’t bother to grace that with an answer as they finished dressing and pulling themselves back together. Tony pressed a button on his watch and Clint stood nearby and watched as the suit sprung back to life and encased Tony, hiding him from the world again. “Yup,” Clint stated, “just as hot watching it go back on. Seriously, did you design it to do that or did it just happen naturally?”

 

Tony just turned his masked face towards Clint “Sex sells, baby,” he joked and held his hand out to let Clint grab on.

 

“Yeah, let’s go see how red Daddy Cap is.”

 

“Nope, nuh uh. Putting a stop to that right now. No Daddy kinks under my roof. Not today Clinton.” Tony joked in a mock stern tone as Clint wrapped and arm around to Tony to grasp onto the armour, Tony’s arm worming around Clint’s waist to hold him in place for flight. “Clench up, Legolas.”

 

“You’re one to talk,” Clint joked, “that ass is tight man,” Clint punctuated with a laugh and a hard metallic slap to Iron Man’s ass.

 

Tony smirked behind the mask and just let his rocket boots answer for him. He launched them up off the roof and into a dive down towards street level, Clint let out a surprised yelp, his legs trailing helplessly behind them, gripping Tony a bit tighter, shit eating grin plastered on his face.


End file.
